Epilogue
by Atarashii
Summary: The end takes so long to come, at times . . . [Saincentric]


**Title**: Epilogue  
**Author**: Atarashii  
**Fandom**: Fire Emblem  
**Rating**: PG/T+  
**Genre**: Angst/Tragedy  
**  
Warnings**: _Implied_ character death.  
**  
Disclaimer**: Fire Emblem and all its associated characters do not, and never will, belong to me. Everything else does.

**Author Notes**: It's been a while since I've been able to write something, and complete it . . . I guess I've found a new source of inspiration. (So perhaps this means that sooner or later a certain multi-part fic or two of mine will get added onto . . .)

Otherwise, some people might not like how I characterise Sain, but - eh. Each person has his or her views on how to characterise certain characters. I just prefer to be a bit more indepth with all of them; especially the ones which I consider to be 'favourites' of mine.

One an unrelated sidenote - I so _hate_ the quick document thingiemajigger.

**Epilogue  
**

His smile faltered a little, and for a brief moment pain flickered within his eyes.

Just as soon as his mask slipped, though, it was put back into place; the smile strengthened and he managed to put the laughter back into golden irises with ease . . . after all, he'd had more than enough practice over the years.

His head tilted, gloved hands tightening a little on the reins.

_Deep breath, and exhale._

Grip loosening a little as tensed muscles began to relax, Sain allowed his gaze to drift from his partner's form, and looked towards the distance ahead. The other's voice began to fade as his thoughts took over in his stead.

_Getting yelled at again, I see._ His mind taunted, _It seems that that's all that happens nowadays. Things might be different if you did something right for once. _

Mocking laughter rang in his ears, and for once he didn't wince at the sound of it. Instead, his grip on his mount's reins tightened once more, and his shoulders threatened to slump as he found the all-too familiar feeling of self-loathing overcome him - and his inner voice wasn't helping matters at all.

If anything, it just made things worse.

_Why do you even bother, anymore?_ The voice whispered, its tone shifting to one that sounded as if it were talking to a child, _Why do you keep pretending to be someone you aren't? Afraid of what they'd think should they know the things you think about? _

It paused, and for a brief moment there was nothing but silence.

_. . . You're nothing of the knight you claim to be._

He felt a shiver run along his spine; felt another part of him break under those words. Confusion and doubt began to cloud his mind, merging with the loathing and creating a new form of monster -

Hate.

Hate for himself, and everything he was and wasn't.

Hate for the fact that he was so _weak_ and unable to handle things and keep _himself_ in control of his own thoughts and emotions.

Hate for the fact that no one seemed to notice or care, all because he was too good at pretending.

Then the hate faded to a more 'comfortable' level, leaving behind a trail of destruction in its wake.

For a moment, silence reigned once more, and it seemed his mind had left him alone to think for himself.

His vision seemed to blur a little, the setting sun before him becoming a myriad of colours as unshed tears stung at the corner of his eyes.

He had, for the longest time, been able to handle things. He had been able to go through life in the role he'd fashioned for himself, and keep his inner demons in check. Lately, though . . . lately his mind would attack him at the smallest of errors, and continue its attack until choosing to give him a small reprieve.

He'd been able to handle it, though, but now . . .

The traces of fatigue began to creep onto him as he felt the battered and bruised shields he'd erected crumbling with each passing day. Now it seemed as if the last one had fallen, leaving behind a desolate path for exhaustion to follow and the realisation that he just couldn't take it anymore.

The words spoken to him, whether the speaker be himself or another, were becoming too much to bear, and he was getting so . . . _tired_.

Tired of pretending.

Tired of existing.

Tired of just being _alive_.

_Besides_, he reasoned, _Wasn't it selfish of him to continue to force Kent and the others to have to deal with him? Wouldn't it be selfish to become the person you truly are, and force them to see what you're _really_ like? _

The voice returned, taking this opportunity to shatter its owner more.

_You've always been selfish. Selfish in bothering to stick around, even though it's an obvious fact that you're worthless, and nothing but a burden to them. Give it up, and look all around you. See the look within their eyes, and hear the disgust in their voices . . . _

_Just give it up, and give them something they'd _really_ like._

It faded with those words, and the damage had been done.

The tears dried as his vision cleared and the world outside of his head made itself known to him once more.

His head turned towards his partner, and a light smile was given towards the other.

"Don't worry, Kent. I'll make sure that this is the last time you'd ever have to waste your time on me."

He laughed, and the resulting sound was a broken and hollow one that unsettled his companion.

Kent frowned, crimson gaze resting on Sain's face.

"What're you talking about, Sain?"

The older male just gave him another smile and another laugh, shaking his head and reaching over to pat Kent's shoulder.

"Just letting you know." Was the vague response, before the green-armoured knight pulled his hand back and turned his head forward once more.

He said nothing else as the heels of his boots nudged his mount in the sides and he trotted off and out of their encampment, soon fading from the other's line of sight.

Kent blinked, and then shook his head. He'd talk to Sain later, when he returned.

He never saw the dead look within the other's eyes, nor the resigned look upon his face.

Later never came.


End file.
